


The Game

by pjlover666



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Anniversary Challenge 2013, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/pseuds/pjlover666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl is playing a dangerous game and the stakes might be more higher than he can imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Game  
> Prompts: 'Truth or Dare' and the 'Social Network'  
> Verse: G1  
> Rating: PG 13  
> Word Count: 900  
> Warnings: None so far.  
> Summary: Prowl is playing a dangerous game and the stakes might be more higher than he can imagine.
> 
> AN: Written for the pj anniversary challenge 2013, but unfortunately I wasn't able to finish it in time, sorry! RL is just eating all of my time as of late. I'll try to get more posted on soon! ^^''

"What about him?"

"Mmm, too easy."

"What about that femme over there?"

"Oh please, she practically has the sign 'DESPERATE' on her plating."

A sigh, "Fine then, you pick. This is getting stupid."

"Now, now. You know the rules."

"Smokescreen, if you do not pick someone, my fist will meet your face."

"Snappy." Smokescreen looked around, pointedly ignoring his irritable company. His optics landed on a foreigner. And he was quite cute, with a friendly smile and bright blue optics that just drew one's attention towards—

"Him."

"Him?"

"Yes, him."

"He is not from Praxus."

"Which only makes it more interesting. Plus, once you break his spark you won't have to worry about seeing him ever again!"

"How… thoughtful of you."

"What, don't tell me you're going to lose your perfect score now?"

"No, I am not." Gold optics looked over the other's frame, drinking in every detail.

"Good, I wouldn't want to tell the rest of our game-palls that you fragged out at the last second."

His partner did not answer this time, only crossed his arms and appeared deep in though, as if trying to solve a mech-shaped puzzle. Smokescreen couldn't help but smirk.

"Why, don't tell me you suddenly grew morals and ethics all of a sudden."

He received a glare.

"I'm just saying, you've done a lot worse then what you're about to do now."

"This is different."

"Please," Smokescreen's optics turned cold, but the smile didn't leave his face, "I never pictured you as a hypocrite. This is The Game. You're either in or out."

Both mechs watched as a waitress went over to their prey's table, offering energon. The mech made the waitress laugh and she even brushed his arm while passing t other clients.

His wings roused with determination as a decision finally presented itself to him. Turning his golden optics to Smokescreen, he said:

"Announce it in the Social Network. I'm in."

"I knew you'd see reason. Your time starts the moment you mech contact with him and it ends on the 12th orn since that moment. If you can make that tourist fall in love with you for twelve orns, you win and get too keep your title as Game Master Prowl."

Prowl did not react. Instead he devoted his attention to the mech across from them, studying him. He knew that they challenged him with this because he lacked the social skills. Plus, he had proven himself on various other occasions with other 'tasks'. Truth be told, he was expecting a challenge like this to swell up sooner or later.

It was a game, or rather 'The Game' and it was Praxus' most popular underground game that existed. It was popular because it was legal. It was 'underground' because some of the challenges when the contestants were supposed to do weren't exactly… moral. They kinda lacked in that department.

The results were broadcasted online over the Social Network – the place where other mechs could observe and make bets about the success of the contestants. It was a good system – some of Praxus' greatest hackers had made sure that their servers were safe and untraceable. That, and the system had one more ace in their hands: the Enforcers.

The players kept it clean, banning everything and all illegal, and the Enforcers turned a blind optic to the game. Pit, even _they_ played it.

Truth or Dare. Such a simple game had been brought on to the next level. The contestants got to choose either to say the truth (hooked up to machines that proved a mech wasn't lying) or do a dare.

Let's just say, that everyone picked dare.

And Prowl was the current champion. Being an Enforcer and all of that, he had some advantages that others contestants didn't. And when it came to morals, well…

"Hello, is this seat taken?"

Prowl smiled down at the mech when he looked up at him. He felt the mech's optics sweep over his frame and couldn't stop the bubbling feeling of smugness from spreading when the mech grinned at him and gestured at the seat in front of him.

"Be mah guest, mech. It's nice ta have to company."

The Enforcer did as told, looking at the mech shyly as a spider web started to grow around his unsuspecting victim.

"I am Prowl. Welcome to Praxus."

"Thanks! M'name's Jazz an' it's good ta be here!"

Morals?

He had none.

* * *

TBC


End file.
